Prologue (& Map of The East)


Tom Mill was on the barge, heading towards the Tower to see his heavily Silvered, permanently scarred daughter Tandy for the first time. He was to be the new bargeman, ferrying goods and people to and from the Tower.
But as surely as Mik longed to kiss his Sarry once more, to hold his Bonnie on his lap, Mik knew that his future depended on that man – that boy, that frustrating, maddening, immature, yassing boy – that they had just left behind. And the woman who never left his side. And here he was, heading the opposite direction.
Surely, surely these two weren’t them. Maybe he’d heard wrong. It must be his parents, not these two. That would make far more sense.
But inside, somehow, despite his arguments and frustration, Mik knew.
Sitting at the table a couple hours before, the despair at seeing his own Silvered face in the mirror for the first time had been dispelled by Denzin’s words. And the effect those words had on him vanquished Mik’s last real doubts. That boy was indeed the Designed one. And that meant she was his Strength.
Mik had always known his life mattered. Then Frith had confirmed it through one of the prophets. Though he’d never expected the journey would involved being stuck in that yassing pod, cleaning that yassing street.
Then Denzin’s face popped up in front of his for the first time. And a few days later, he’d been freed by the two of them.
The message had come loud and clear. His life was entwined with this kid and his minder. They needed him as much as he had needed them.
He hadn’t realised exactly who Chimma was in all this when they’d announced their leaving. So Mik had pleaded – he’d begged! – to take Chimma’s place. When it was obvious Denzin would not leave her behind, he’d even asked to go with the two of them. But the ones he knew he had to serve had rejected him. Then turned, and walked away.
‘What are you doing, Frith?’ he prayed. ‘I tried everything I could to obey you. And now, it’s out of my hands.’
There was no other option. Mik just needed to do what he needed to do. He’d been charged by Denzin to work with Ranna and carry on the mission they’d begun. To keep her safe, really, he reckoned. She was only fifteen – just a year older than Tandy Mill herself. Much too young for all this.
Ranna interrupted his internal ranting.
“Mik, don’t just stand there. Your arms are stronger than mine. Take over the poling for me, so I can talk to Mr. Mill. I want him to understand what Tandy’s been through. He needs to hear my story before he gets there.”
Mik stuffed his anger away. Ranna didn’t deserve that. Nor did Tom. His anger was best stored away until he could pour it out where it belonged.
Reluctantly, he turned away from the dock where he’d last seen his future, and faced his present.
“Here, give me the pole then, kid. You’re right. Tom needs to hear what you have to say.”
“Here you go, old man,” she replied, passing the long pole over to him. And he listened in as she unfolded her experiences of being both podded Silvered. Tom’s sobs showed the message was hitting home. That father did indeed need to hear what his fourteen-year-old daughter had faced. Still faced.
When would Mik see them again? Those two who Frith had so determinedly called him to serve. Who had just turned and walked away.
The ‘old man’ poled the barge back towards the Tower as the clouds began to eat up the Silvery Way.
Then came the night he’d dreaded. He and Ranna were heading back, having identified the next podded one to free. Having put the silencing commands, the following commands and the sleep commands in place ready to use the following night, they’d rounded the corner and been seen.
“Run!” he called, slinging Ranna forward with all the strength he could muster, letting her go to do what he’d told her to do.
They’d talked about this. Denzin and Chimma had told them to discuss this very moment. And he’d done the exact opposite of what they’d agreed.
Separate, they’d agreed. They’d separate, and run two different directions, so that at least one of them could get away. Then they’d rendezvous on the Bridge To Nowhere, over the entrance to the Arena. And if one of them didn’t make it back within a couple of hours, they’d set watch at the start and end of Curfew, studying every face of every podded one driving in and out until the one taken was found and rescued again.
But Mik knew she’d never outrun the people traffickers. The only way she had a chance was if they were busy with him.
And so he was taken.
He prayed to Frith that she was safe. And that she hadn’t waited for him too long.
Yet again, he woke up, not knowing where he was. Dragged into a very large, very bright room, he was forced up onto some contraption, and fastened to it.
Several white-coated people were talking. A Silvered Helper was there, as well, with a podded one connected to her somehow.
Then the older man – obviously their teacher – began to speak.
“This one, she’s clever. Good brain in there. Designed specially for us, you know. Had to wait eighteen years for her, plus another two years for training, but she’s definitely proved herself worth the wait. Already put an order in for two more just like her. Derbon’s a bit backward in some ways, but very thorough in their genetics and impressing commands. From what I’ve understand, she doesn’t even know her own name anymore. Whenever someone says Kayda Walker, she doesn’t even realise it’s her name. Very thorough, those Derbonians.”
Once the teacher and his students had gone and the door had closed, he whispered, “You’re her! You’re Kayda Walker! You are, aren’t you? Denzin’s sister?”
No, there was no escaping his fate. Frith had his ways, and they were definitely beyond anything Mik could understand. Denzin was coming to rescue her. And him, now. And then he’d be right back where he belonged.
He only hoped that Ranna hadn’t been sacrificed to get him here.